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Her Royal Daddy by Maren Smith and Rayanna Jamison

When Norah Baxter took a job as the royal correspondent for the king of a small island nation off the coast of Africa, she hoped the bold career move would offer her the chance for a fresh start. What she did not expect was to be threatened with a spanking before her flight even landed.

The moment Norah calls him daddy during a tipsy attempt at flirting, Mazi Tucker knows she is in desperate need of a firm hand applied to her cute backside. Before Mazi can take the beautiful, headstrong reporter in hand properly, however, she will have to be told the truth about him.

Though she is quite surprised to discover that Mazi is the only heir of the island’s king, the real shock comes when the stern, sexy prince takes off his belt, bares Norah’s bottom, and teaches her what happens to naughty little girls who push daddy too far with their pouting and defiance.

Over the coming days, Norah’s lust for her royal daddy grows into love, but when the time comes for him to marry will Mazi be forced by tradition to claim a wife from his own country?

Publisher’s Note: Her Royal Daddy includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book. Also note that an earlier version of Her Royal Daddy was previously published by another publisher under the title The Dancing King as part of a multi-author collection entitled Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas. This version has been completely rewritten and expanded to nearly double its original length.

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Authors: Maren Smith and Rayanna Jamison

eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$3.95

Length: 40,300 words


“You know what happens to baby girls who hit their daddies?” he asked, flipping me onto my stomach and planting his hand in the small of my back to keep me there. “They get hot, sore bottoms to teach them better.”

There wasn’t anywhere near enough fabric in my uniform skirt today to protect me from the bite of his belt, and yet from the first snap of leather as it wrapped the curves of my ass, it was like all this was what I had been waiting for. This was why I had chased after Mazi instead of staying with the king and doing my job. It seemed so just, so appropriate for my having slapped and then bit him on the stairs. It fit the explosive passion that had overwhelmed me at his kiss. It hurt, and yet felt good. I hated it, and yet I lay on my belly, clinging to the bedding, fighting myself not to struggle as he whipped the seat of my skirt half a dozen times before baring my bottom completely for one of the hottest, hardest, most breathtaking and yet arousing spankings of my life.

My pussy refused to differentiate between the pain of the belt, repeatedly wrapping my ass in its hugging embrace, and the pleasure it so badly wanted to feel. The pleasure I got hints of every time Mazi paused in the middle of spanking me to rub his rasping hand over my stinging flesh. He cupped, he squeezed, he didn’t seem to care at all how much noise I made when he did it. I protested, but not because I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to anything but stop, but there was something so freeing in having the need to fight stripped out of me.

I didn’t want to yield, I wanted him to make me yield and that’s exactly what he did. First with his belt, and then his caressing, squeezing hand, and finally, he grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of my scalp and whispered so hot in my ear, “How rough do you want this to get, baby girl?”

The burning need to reply “Fuck you” won out over the far more rational and fitting, “How rough can you make it?”

“You think that spanking is the only way Daddy has of punishing you?”

My eyes damn near rolled back in my head when he first nipped the lobe of my ear, then soothed the minor pain with a suckling kiss. My pussy gushed hot and wet when he straddled me. The sound of him unfastening his pants made me even wetter.

“You want to be punished by Daddy?” I heard him tear into a condom wrapper with his teeth.

Yes. God, yes. I bowed my back in a feline arch, arching back my hips and pushing my bottom up against him. His grip on my hair forced my head to the mattress, even as his other hand forced its way between my closed thighs. I’d have opened them for him, but his legs held me trapped between them.

There was nothing gentle in the way he pushed his finger up inside me. My pussy clamped onto that single digit, and my whole body cried its loss when he immediately pulled it out again. He replaced it with two fingers, shoving them in just to hear me grunt at the roughness. I bit the bedding, both hating and loving it as he finger-fucked me, hard and fast, the liquid slapping sound filling the room as he spanked my pussy with every thrust.

I shouted, my body perched right on the edge of coming when he suddenly ripped his hand away.

“You’ve been a bad baby girl,” he breathed as he wiped the wetness he’d stolen from me up into the crack of my captured ass. “You want Daddy to punish you?”

Every sexually charged nerve in my body sparked with electrified need when he touched the puckered rim of my back entrance.

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